Burn Brighter
by BreakingFree2015
Summary: Morgana is in her last year of A-levels and ready to do whatever it takes to succeed and get herself out of town, including shut herself away from everyone and everything.


**A/N: Hellooooo you wonderful bunch of people. I know it's been, yet again, an obnoxious amount of time since I've updated TYTMY, and I'm sorry for that. Please accept as an apology this slightly messy beginning to a little story that took a hold of me and wouldn't let go.**

"Party at Elyan's on Friday, pass it on. Bring booze, kidzzzzzz!"  
Morgana barely glances at the note before dropping it on the desk next to hers, swiftly and efficiently so that she misses not even one word of what the history teacher, Mr Monmouth, is droning out at the front of the class. She vaguely registers the excited shuffles and whispers of her classmates as the crumpled paper makes its way around the room, hand flying across her notebook in a rush to get everything down, and makes a pointed effort to not let it distract her. Mr Monmouth is slow to speak, but hidden beneath the monotone voice and mind-numbing demeanour is a wealth of knowledge that Morgana is eager to exploit, and so she strains her ears just a little more to catch all the unshined treasure.

It's April, final term of year 13. A-levels are right around the proverbial corner, and unlike many of her year group, Morgana is very, very much not in denial of this fact. She studies every night for 5 hours, diligently making flash cards and reading over them, snaps at anyone who tries to interact with her (save a bare handful of people who get a free pass) and applies spot cream to the standard circle of acne that crops up on her temple in response to stress. It is tiring and frustrating and difficult but all it takes is the reminder that good results in August are her one way ticket to leaving this town-to being _free_ \- for her to kick Arthur out of her room and start brandishing highlighters again.

Consequently, when the class files out of the classroom, sluggishly trying to get to their next classes as late as possible, she doesn't contribute to the excited chatter about the upcoming party ("it's been _sooooo_ long since a night out, I need this after all that revision,"

"and Elyan's parties are always live as fuck, this is gonna be _fantastic_ ").

That is, she doesn't join in until she rounds a corner, massaging a cramp out of her overworked hand, and promptly smacks into her best friend-only friend, really-Gwen. The impact is hard and abrupt, causing them to tumble into a heap of intertwined limbs and sore heads on the floor, groaning in response to the hard landing.

"Jesus Christ, Gwen, watch where you're going. Now is not the time to lose brain cells!"

"Calm down, pumpkin," Gwen rolls her eyes at Morgana, choosing to settle comfortably on top of her right there in the hallway instead of getting up. Various students mill by, not even batting an eyelid at them- they've gotten used to Morgana and Gwen in weirdly compromising positions in various areas of the school campus over the last seven years.

"So. Elyan's party." Morgana says conversationally, shifting slightly to the left to better bear her smaller friend's weight. "What's that about?"

"He wants an excuse to be able to get the girls from Mercia to come, so he can shag Hannah Kantana."

"Of course he does," Morgana replies rolling her eyes. The Smith family, while being very loyal and sweet individuals, aren't really known for only going half way to get what they want. Elyan always goes about it in the biggest way possible, but it is Gwen, seemingly innocent Gwen, who knows exactly which buttons to push to subtly bend you to her will. Speaking of-

"I know you're busy with school and everything." Morgana groans as Gwen pushes her face right into Morgana's, allowing her to feel the full emotional onslaught of her puppy dog eyes. That _bitch_. Gwen bloody knows Morgana would much rather saw of her own arm than refuse Gwen anything when she makes that face. "But I think it would be really great if you came to this party with me," she continues in a slightly louder voice, heedless of Morgana's attempts to shove her hand over Gwen's face and get her to stop talking.

"No." Morgana states, absurdly proud of the firmness with which she does so. She is ice, she is calm, she is sensible, she is-

"Not even to keep your best friend company so she doesn't have to deal with seeing her lying cheating ex's stupid face all night long?"  
-completely and utterly going to ensure that Gwen never has that dejected, helpless tone colouring her voice again.

"Fine." Morgana grumbles finally, eyes straining with the effort to not roll when she hears Gwen woop excitedly before scrambling off her.  
"But only for an hour and I'm not drinking anything and so help me God if you try to make me talk to even one other person-"

She cuts herself off, realising mournfully that Gwen, currently victoriously giving an amused Mithian holloway her best version of the sprinkler, really isn't paying attention to her anyway.

* * *

Later that evening, Morgana sets down her knife and fork on her half-finished plate and turns to address the imposing man at the end of the long, glass table.  
"Father," she begins, clearing her throat. "Gwen and Elyan are having a gathering at their house on Friday. I'd like to go."  
She pauses here as Arthur immediately begins to choke on a bite of food he's just placed into his ginormous mouth, primly pushing a glass of water over to his side of the table without looking at him.

"A gathering?" Uther repeats doubtfully, looking at Morgana carefully as though he isn't quite sure of her sanity.

"But you never go to parties." Arthur says, sounding thoroughly confused. "You never do anything that requires leaving your stupid highlighters behind."

Morgana resists the urge to deck him as she casts him a quick, withering glare before turning back to Uther. "May I go, please?" It kills her, absolutely _kills_ her, to have to show so much respect, allow her father so much control, so much _authority_ but she has learnt over the years the few but solid ways to get your way around Uther Pendragon.

"A party," Uther says, wrong-footed. "That you would like to attend."

The need to roll her eyes is so strong they actually start watering from the strain of refraining, yet Morgana manages to grit out a reasonably polite "yes."

"I'm not sure "

"Merlin and I will be there." Arthur offers, actually being helpful in some capacity for once in his life.

That causes Uther to grimace and wipe the corner of his mouth carefully with his napkin. "I know Arthur and his...and his, his..." He trails off, gesturing at Arthur helplessly.

"Boyfriend" Morgana and Arthur supply helpfully in unison.

"Yes...yes, _that_ " Uther blathers, trying to regain composure while Arthur calmly holds his gaze.  
(The day he'd walked into their father's study, determined, and announced that he was in love with a boy was one that Morgana would never forget. The resulting screaming match, the sight of her brother's tears, and her father's weary acceptance of this "unforeseen obstacle" had been draining to say the least. If everyone's being honest, the house still hasn't fully recovered from the upheaval).

Uther is still uncomfortable with the idea but Arthur is so proud, so goddamn in love with Merlin, he knows he would have war on his hands if he tried to in anyway oppose their relationship. It is the one aspect of Arthur he has not moulded himself and it makes Morgana love her infuriating, obnoxious little brother just a little bit more.

Uther tries again. "I know Arthur and... _Merlin_ are rather protective of you, and can take care of you very well. So long as they go, you can as well."

Morgana gags against the need to scream out her capability of being able to take care of herself, to scream out reminders of who it was that took care of both of the _strapping_ , _strong_ men in this room when Ygraine died and ripped their world apart, of how it was the weak, _incapable_ girl who put the family back together again piece by piece. It takes several moments, but she manages to choke out a submissive "thank you," before motioning for the maid to take her plate, appetite suddenly lost. She escapes to the comfort of her room, texts Gwen to let her friend know that she will be there on Friday, and loses herself in the soothing, boring task of learning irregular verbs.

* * *

Friday dawns, and Morgana goes about her day as normal, extremely perturbed by the strong feeling of nervousness accompanying her every thought. She can't remember the last time she felt nervous- she can't even remember the last time she felt scared, and yet here she is, emulating both emotions in a frightening amount.

Over a _party_.

In stark contrast, the majority of year 13 spends the school day buzzing in anticipation for a night of remission from the thought of exams and their futures which have suddenly become so imminent. Morgana understands-to an extent. She understands that leaving school and city and home is a stressful and uncomfortable concept for most people but she finds it difficult to empathise when all she sees whenever she closes her eyes are the seductive colours of freedom and peace that leaving will bring. She understands, but she doesn't agree, and so decides that spending lunchtime with her younger brother and his friends will be a welcome reprieve from the endless discussions about what to wear and who's going to get off with who.

Unfortunately for her, Arthur is inexplicably popular. Despite only being in year 12, he and his friends have also been invited and the group seems to be just as obsessed with the night as every other bellend in the goddamn year. Morgana sighs, decides she can't exactly walk away now, and lowers herself into the chair next to Merlin's (if she is going to be subject to this inane chatter, she will at least do it next to someone she doesn't _completely_ despise) and allows herself to offer him an expression slightly more welcoming than her usual frown.

"Alright, Morgana?" His smile is as sweet and awkward as ever and, not for the first time, Morgana wonders how her arrogant and loud brother ever managed to lock that shit down. She admits-grudgingly-that Arthur is good to Merlin, _much_ better than he ever was to any of his girlfriends, and that to someone with mild visual impairment, he _could_ resemble something close to handsome, but still-he's still _Arthur_. He doesn't even wash his hands after using the bathroom, for Christ's sake.

Merlin, however, either doesn't know or doesn't care because he currently has his fingers interlocked tightly with Arthur's, resting on his knee, while his boyfriend guffaws at a stupid joke that Leon is making. For the briefest hint of a second, Morgana feels a sharp pang of longing for their complete and unadulterated love for each other.

"Life is adequate," she responds neutrally, reaching over to steal some of his chips. "Although when I see Elyan, I'm going to kill him."

"Bit extreme." Merlin says mildly, not at all bothered by her vicious tone. "At least it'll be over tonight. Then you can go back to highlighting passages about Queen Elizabeth the first's hair or whatever."

"Queen Elizabeth was a revolutionary who, despite many obstacles, overcame the limitations of her gender-obsessed world and led England to greatness," Morgana states primly. "If you were anyone else, I would have stabbed this fork through your urethra just for implying that the most note-worthy thing about her was her _hair_."

"Love you too, Morgs, love you too."

 **A/N: This story will be about three chapters long, and of course, another story centred around my main girl Morgana. She may or may not be based off how I am when I get stressed. Maybe. No one can prove it. Feel free to review, favourite or follow if you're interested!**


End file.
